


Say I look nice (When I'm not)

by Dhole



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Gore, Caesar's Legion, Canon-Typical Violence, Hospitalization, Injury Recovery, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhole/pseuds/Dhole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aurelius gets word a loved one is suffering at the hands of the NCR and stops at nothing to save him.</p><p>UPDATE 18/03/2017<br/>[[THIS FANFIC WILL SOON UNDERGO A RE-WRITE.]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy a pairing literally no one else but I ship.

Bullets tore through soft padding. The Legionary took six bullets to his chest, before dropping only a few yards from the NCR trooper who fired them. The moment he hit the floor, the leading sergeant gave the all clear, once he'd given that same fallen Legionary a kick to ensure he was dead. The Legion had been eradicated from Camp Nelson. All but one, that was. The team of troopers left one particular Legionary alive. The one who had caused their own camp so much misery, the one who had strung up the remains of their friends for fun.

  
Decanus Dead Sea.

  
That name could stop any idle chatter in Forlorn Hope. It was a name nobody dared to speak, as they feared the monstrous Legionary could appear at the mere mention of his name. The troopers would make jokes about most Legion names, making a mockery of the Latin language the fascists treasured so dearly. But no man dared mock Dead Sea. It was a name that could send a shiver down any man's spine. So dark and fore boarding.

  
The Decanus didn't go without a fight though. Like all Legionaries, he saw the fight through to what he hoped would've been the bitter, bloody end. He took cover in the bathrooms of the barracks, the two troopers stayed behind the two grubby, bloodstained mattresses. What was expected to be a firefight, became a game of macro-polo, only with bullets. Private Green would fire at Dead Sea, Dead Sea would stay hidden behind the walls. Dead Sea returned fire, both troopers made sure to stay firmly behind their own makeshift barricades. Someone had to run out of bullets soon enough, both parties knew who would loose their firepower first.

  
The faint clicking of an empty cartridge that came from the bathroom was the signal that the Legionary was out of bullets and out of options. And most importantly: Nowhere to run or hide. The two troopers moved forward through the barracks. The rotten floorboards creaked under their boots, like the floor was ready to give out from under them at any given moment. The insufferable creaking ruled out a stealthy assault, but it wasn't like they needed one, their target had nowhere to run too.

  
“On three” One trooper mouthed to the other.

  
The younger trooper nodded, letting out a shaky breath. His body pumped with adrenalin, his hands shook unable to hold his service rifle steady. Reynalds held up one single finger, mouthing the number silently. Then came two fingers. Bile built up in Green's throat, the tension and anxiety becoming too much for the young trooper.

  
Three fingers.

  
“Now!!” The other exclaimed, sprinting around the corner, rifle in hand. Green went in a split second after- Only to suddenly be coated in a splatter of blood. The sound of a blade slicing through flesh, then the scream of the Sargent who was without a left hand. Cut off by a Legion blade.

  
The one welded by Dead Sea himself, the Liberator.

  
The leather and bone handle was gripped tightly in the gloved hand. Green's eyes focused on the blade, dripping with the blood of his friend. His eyes then trailed from the blade, to the arm that welded it. Thick black brandings, burned deep into the man's flesh. A symbol of Caesar's ownership over this man. The men of the Legion were slaves too- But they just couldn't see the chains they wore. Finally, his eyes met those of his enemies. Though they were hidden behind dark goggles, he could see there was no humanity left in them. No compassion for others, like every other Legion scum bag.

  
The Decanus rose his blade, up to the chin of the younger male. The Sergeant was no longer a threat to him, he lay screaming and writhing over in the corner about his now stump hand. He strode past the whimpering wreck and over to his next kill. When the tip of the blade met the troopers flesh, Dead Sea heard the faintest whimper. That made him smirk, how quickly the Republic could lose their advantage.

  
“You've done well. To destroy what forces I had here...” The Decanus snarled, starting to back the trooper up against the wall. “Your only error... Was challenging me.” He growled deeply, the blade pressed deeper into the troopers flesh now.

“Y-you're-”

“What was that, Profligate?” The Legionary taunted, cupping his free hand over where his ear was. “I didn't quite catch that, the sound of your fear drowned it out a little...”

  
“You're- In deep shit.” The young Private growled back. The sudden burst of confidence was enough to take Dead Sea back slightly, just enough for the blade of the machete to come half an inch from his throat, giving some breathing space. Dead Sea recovered in almost a flash, going to press the blade back in, and probably kill the man.

  
A shot rang out from behind the both of them, then three more. The Decanus gave a cry of pain before buckling and collapsing to the ground. Blood gushing from the back of his knee. Behind the swearing, quivering wreck of a Decanus, was Sargeant Reynalds who held a pistol that emitted a string of smoke from four fresh bullets that fired out of it. Green leapt over the fallen man and straight over to his fellow trooper, holding him to his feet and supporting his weight as the two walked out of the hell hole barracks.

  
“What about Dead Sea?” One trooper asked to Major Polatli, who was overseeing the removal of Legion 'activity' in Nelson. Mainly removing their disgusting tributes from the camp and putting the bodies into a mass, unmarked grave.

  
He'll get what's coming to him.” The man mummered under a drag of a cigarette. “

  
“Justice will be served tonight.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dead Sea meets the man in charge of Forlorn Hope, the very camp he'd brought to it's knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for Mouth trauma and other forms of violence
> 
> Any advice/critic can be posted in the comments or sent to my tumblr! (dholes)

The familiar taste of metallic was the only thing the Decanus was aware of, as he slowly regained consciousness. The next thing he felt was pain. Horrible, unbearable pain, that shot up from his injured leg. It was like someone was forcing a hot poker through the back of his knee, it took all his self restraint to not cry out from it. He whined and went to move, then it dawned on him.

  
He was tied to the chair.

  
Panic set in now. The Legionary thrashed and squirmed, trying to get free of his restraints. Dead Sea pulled to the right, then to the left. His binds still didn't give. After another five minutes of struggling to no avail, Dead Sea gave up. His struggle left him slightly out of breathe. While catching his breath, the Decanus tried to get a baring of his surroundings. He still in the barracks, that was one thing for sure. He was facing towards the entrance of the bathroom, which only added to the man's discomfort. He wouldn't be able to see anyone who came into the building.

  
He could be shot in the back of the head at any given moment.

And he'd never be able to look his killer in the eyes.

  
Almost on queue, the door behind him swung open with some force, followed by the sound of boots on hard wood. Dead Sea could tell more than one person entered the room. One of them walked into Dead Sea's line of sight and stood before him.

  
“So I finally get to meet the bastard who's been torturing all my men and women for fun.”

“I've been here everyday, Polatli... You just needed to stop cowering under your desk for once and drop by.”

  
It was hard to not grin at the Major's reaction. His jaw was clenched, as were his fists. “How many of Forlorn's head officers can fit under that desk, by the way?” The Decanus continued to bait.

  
“Can Reyes get under there too? What abo-”

  
A fist smashed into the bridge of the Decanus' nose. The Legionary grunted in pain, but it didn't wipe the shit-eating grin off of his face.

  
“Touch a nerve there did I, Polatli? Should I not insult your team of cowards back home?”

  
Joesph Polatli didn't justify his taunts with a response. He felt nothing but resentment for this man, if he could even be called a man. Monster was more appropriate. The NCR had it's rules on prisoners of war, yes. But Dead Sea was not their prisoner, he was fair game. Polatli wanted this man to beg. Beg for death the same way the Legion's victims do.

  
“You know, Decanus.” Polatli began, walking to the side of the captive Legionary and over to one of the desks. “You're a feared man. Half of my troopers don't wanna mentioned your damn name, in fear of you popping up out their toilets or something.” He spoke calmly, as he reached for a pair of pliers left lying in a toolbox on the same desk. The dried blood on the tool was a clear indicator that it was an instrument of torture, used by the Legion on their captives.

  
“But they'll fear you no more, Dead Sea. Not when I show them what you're like after we're finished with you, you sick, disgusting fuck.” The Major growled, pacing back to Dead Sea and grasping the lower part of his jaw hard.

  
“Force his mouth open.”

  
Two of the troopers did so on command. One restrained the Legionnaire's neck, the other managed to prize the Decanus' jaws apart. Some kind of gag was applied, again- one of Dead Sea's once own used on his victims.

  
“Alright. How many troopers were strung up when we arrived?”

“Three, Major. Three were crucified.” One trooper answered. He wasn't sure if the question was actually directed at the captive, but he wasn't exactly in a position to answer any kind of question.

  
“Three troopers. Three of your teeth. I think that sounds fair, don't you?” He asked Dead Sea, who's eyes were now wide with fear. “I'm glad you agree that's fair, Decanus.”

  
With a word of warning, the pliers clamped around a molar in the back of the man's jaws. He twisted and pulled, watching the man's gums begin to well up with blood. Dead Sea made the most inhuman noises as the extraction continued. Like a coyote that was dying a slow, painful death. With a final twist and yank, the pliers pulled away with a perfect, bloody molar clamped between them.

“You have a cavity” The Major remarked, as he inspected the tooth before dropping it into an ashtray. Dead Sea could only whine and breath heavily, as the blood began to leak out of his mouth.

  
The process repeated for the next two teeth. Polatli selected another molar and a canine tooth. The canine came out with ease, Dead Sea found himself strangely relief when it simply slid out after being given a hard tug. It still hurt terribly, but it was nothing compared to the two molar's extraction. The second molar was even more difficult than the first one. No matter how many times the man twisted, pulled and yanked, it stayed stubbornly where it was. Tears began to stream down the Legionaries' face, he felt ashamed but the whole ordeal was too agonizing for him to handle.

  
Polatli released his grip on the tooth, stopping to think for a moment while making a typical 'hrmm' sound from his throat. “Pass me a switch-blade.” He ordered and was handed one promptly. The trooper went ahead and dug the tooth's foundation up with the blade. The noise the Decanus made when the tooth was finally ripped out must've been what he could manage for a scream. 'Good' thought the Major to himself.

  
The devices were removed from the Legionnaire's mouth once the tooth was dropped into the tray with the others. The Decanus' head dropped to his chest, the blood that flowed from his mouth now soaking the brown chest plate.

  
“Good boy.” Polatli cooed in a condescending tone, while patting the man's blonde hair. Dead Sea could only glare. Any attempt to speak only resulted in heaps of blood and saliva instead.

  
“That's all you Legionaries are, dogs. Filthy, rabid dogs.” He said, continuing to run his fingers through his captives hair like he was petting an actual dog. Though he couldn't speak, Dead Sea made a firm point of pulling his head one side, away from his fingers. Hating every minute of his enemies touch. Polatli only laughed, then pretended to look hurt, pouting dramatically.

  
“You've got lovely hair. Nice and soft, it's a shame really... it'll probably be ruined after all this.... Get the armour off him next.” He demanded. Dead Sea was helpless against the removal off his shoulder pads, then the chest armour. Eventually, he just left in the crimson shirt and his lower clothings, much to his relief.

  
His armour was dumped to the floor by the two goons, then kicked aside. That only annoyed Dead Sea. That was Legion armour, armour he was proud to wear. Polatli noticed the look on the man's face when the armour was shunted aside.

  
“Awww... Do you not like people disrespecting your little football uniform, Dead Sea?”

  
Dead spoke this time, since the blood had finally stopped welling up in his mouth. “It is the armour worn by a Legionary... As a proud member of Caesar's Legion, it does anger me to see the lowest form of scum disrespect it.” He snarled right back. He expected Polatli to be taken back, surprised by his captives sudden aggression when he thought he'd made him weak. But instead, his captor remained un-phased.

  
“Well, if you want to be represent Caesar so badly... Why don't we give you something a bit more...permanent?”

  
The hem of his shirt was pulled up, revealing soft, unscarred flesh. Dead Sea grunted and struggled to breath straight. His eyes widened and his body began to tremble when the tip of the blade pressed gently against his exposed chest.

  
“I'm thinking 'Legion rat', your thoughts, Decanus?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aurelius moves out

 

 Aurelius gently tapped the end of the pencil against his desk. The rubber made a dull tapping noise every time it made contact with the smooth surface below. He was wondering if he had time to smoke, before Decanus Severus would drop in to report for the day. The man shifted his huge frame from the seat beneath him and heaved himself over to his bed. The soft mattress gave a creak and a groan when Aurelius sat down upon it. A Centurion's armour was impressive, but it was damn heavy, even for a man of Aurelius' height and mass.

  
The office door suddenly burst open, much to the surprise of Aurelius, who nearly dropped his just removed helmet in surprise. A Legionary scout stood at the foot of the door, panting heavily. The man's eyes were bulging, like they would pop out of his skull at any given moment. The Centurion frowned, his strong brows furrowing together. He firmly put his helmet back on and strode over to the still panting scout. The man was almost keeled over at this point, still gasping for air.

  
“You better have good reason for barging in here like this, recruit!” Aurelius sternly told him. “You know all recruits must make an appointment to meet with me unless it's urgent.”

  
“It-...”

  
“Yes?” Aurelius interrupted, folding his muscular arms as his patience for the man began to wear thin.

  
“It is- Sir...” The younger man wheezed. “We're- We're under-”

  
“Just where did you even come from? You're not my scout.”

  
“Nelson....sir...” He finally managed to wheeze, before collapsing to his knees.

  
Aurelius' expression quickly changed. Dead Sea sent him? The Centurion quickly helped the young man to feet and got him into a chair, slightly more hospitable knowing it was one of Dead sea's soldiers. He hadn't heard from the Decanus in some time, it began to concern Aurelius as Dead sea always wrote to him at least once a week, much to the annoyance of the Legion message runners. Aurelius kept every message his partner sent him. It was a risk- The Legion had strict laws about soldiers not laying down with other soldiers, but he loved Dead Sea, more than any backwards laws.

  
He focused back on the man before him. “What do you need then? Or are you just relying a message from the Decanus?” he asked while pouring himself a glass of fresh water from the kitchen.

  
“Nelson- Under attack...Need...Urgent help...”

  
The glass that was in the Centurion's hand shattered from the force of his sudden grip. Quickly brushing the shards off of his palm, he went straight back to the scout. “What? The camp's under siege right now? What about your Decanus? Where is Dead Sea?!” He cried, shaking the poor, trembling scout's shoulders.

  
“I- Don't know if he survived sir... We were five men down when I ran to get help.” He whined. The scout's lungs felt like they were on fire, he'd ran for what felt like hours. Not stopping until he was safely within the perimeters of Cottonwood Cove. Aurelius starred at him, trying to form a plan.

  
“Stay here. Get some rest, recruit.” He ordered, letting the man go.

Aurelius couldn't waste a single second. He called for all his Veterans to come fourth, then placed Severus in charge of the camp in his brief absence. He had to get to Dead Sea, something inside him was telling him the Decanus was still alive and desperately needed Aurelius now more than ever.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, but we learn that aurelius likes interrupting people and has 0 chill


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That Smarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for borderline Sexual abuse.

 

The flip knife cut through Dead Sea's flesh like a hot knife through butter. The Legionary never made a sound, determined not to show an ounce of pain. That's what this sick fuck wanted, for him to cry and beg him for mercy. The Decanus wouldn't give them that though, he'd take death over showing his enemy weakness any day. His tears earlier already erupted whoops of laughter out of the men behind him.

  
_Humiliating._

  
“And there's a T, we're done.”

  
The Knife finished carving out the final letter of a insulting branding. One the Major hoped would scar the Decanus for life, a permanent reminder of the lesson taught here. Well, that was if they'd let him live after all this ordeal. Dead Sea whined, sucking his teeth trying to endure the agony that racked his body. His shirt was dropped back down, covering the Decanus' frame. It didn't take long for the long to begin to soak through the fabric. Unnoticeable at first, beneath the crimson. But soon the dark, damp patches of blood began to seep through.

  
“Had enough?” Polatli suddenly asked. Was he giving him a chance to submit? Dead Sea scoffed in response. 

  
“Enough...you ask? Getting tired are we, Polatli...?” Dead Sea sneered, grinning at his captor. Being sure to show the various, bloody gaps in his jaw set. “This is a measly a warm up by Legion standards.” He rolled on.

  
Polatli tutted. “A warm up.” He repeated, while digging into his pockets and retrieving a packet of cigarettes. With a flick of his wrist, a single one popped out of the carton and the Major put it into his mouth and lit it. Taking a long drag and exhaling, he spoke again.

  
“You know why this is happening to you, don't you, Decanus?”  
  
“Yes. We discussed it earlier. You were ...too cowardly...” Dead Sea struggled to reply. The whole ordeal had left him breathless and exhausted.

  
“Hm. No.” The Major replied, keeping a calm demeanor, despite his captive's insults and taunts. “You deserve this, Dead Sea. You have no regard for human life, non of you Legion dogs do-”

  
“No I'm pretty sure it's down to your cowardice, Joesph.”

“The sheer-”

  
“Cowardice.”

  
A hand gripped the back of the chair he was bound too. Before he knew it, his chair was thrown to the floor, making Dead land hard against the ground. He groaned, the wood pressing uncomfortably into the middle of his back. The sheer ignorance of the Legion knew no bounds. It made Polatli's blood boil. This disgusting, subhuman piece of filth needed to suffer. Suffer for everything he and the Legion did to innocent men and women.

  
A sharp kick in the ribs brought Dead Sea's attention back to Polatli. The Major smirked when the Decanus let out a pained yelp from the force of the kick. That'd bruise the bastard's ribs for sure. The trooper kneeled beside the fallen Legionary. Taking another drag of the cigarette, another way to teach the sick Legion fuck a lesson sprung into the trooper's mind.

  
The Decanus' eyes widened, when he felt the hem of his 'skirt' get pushed upwards. He instantly began to thrash and kick at the other, presuming the worst was about to happen. “Get off me!” He screamed, landing a well placed kick into Polatli's face. There was an audible 'pop', indicating a broken nose.

  
“Serves you right you fucking pervert!” The Legionary snarled. It was a short lived victory for Dead Sea, though. Another kick to the temple sent his vision sideways and Polatli's broken nose only seemed to hinder him for a brief moment. He made quick work of yanking down the shorts the Legionary wore under that ridiculous skirt thing. It wasn't called a skirt apparently, but Joesph hardly gave two fucks about Legion terminology.

  
Dead Sea felt the other grasp him hard, forcing another whine out of him. Fear enveloped the Decanus now. He didn't know what was going to happen to him? Was this a sick revenge act against the Legion?

  
"Get off!” He roared. “Get your fucking hands off of me!” The Legionary continued to shriek and cry. Dead Sea stopped struggled dead, when he watched the other man remove the cigarette from mouth with his spare hand. He'd never seen a Legion boy so worked up. Both of the other, less important troopers had averted their gaze, neither wanting to see a Legionaries' manhood on show, never mind their own commanding officer grabbing it. Maybe they knew what was about to happen? It would explain the pained look on their faces while they desperately tried not to look at the scene before them.

  
"Final chance, Decanus.” Polatli stated. “Submit, and this will all end. You'll get a nice little cell in Camp McCarran, even.”

  
“Go to hell, profligate” Was the Decanus' only response in return. The two men locked eyes, staring for what felt like an eternity. The tension was thick, thick enough to drive a knife through.

  
“Suit yourself, bastard child of Caesar.” Potatli shrugged.

  
Without warning, the lit end of the cigarette was pressed into the head of the Legionaries' cock. The two other troopers winced, unable to stand the agonized scream that their captive let out. The cigarette continued to be pushed into the sensitive area, making the pained Legionary squirm and twist in agony.

  
The pained moans and screams the Legionary emitted was sickly satisfying for the Major. There were tears again now, even better.

  
“Pl- Please- Stop.” The Decanus sobbed. “Please!” he continued to beg. His pride was gone now, this was too much to bear.

  
“Too late, Dead Sea. You're five months to late for mercy...” Polatli replied coldly.

  
He pulled out another cigarette and lit it.

  
“We're not stopping until this pack is empty, by the way.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirus has no respect for people's homes.

The sun was setting by the time Aurelius' forces had reached the edge of the Nelson area, it being nothing more than a white dollop in a fiery sky. He remained on one of the cliff ledges, which still donned various flags of Caesar. The NCR had not yet discovered this area, it seemed. This only worked in his favour, as the Legion snipers had left various supplies, including ammo and medication which had been hidden within buried ammo containers.

 "Stock up on what you need, men!” The Centurion barked. “We can't keep wasting time as those rats burrow deeper into Nelson!”. He had his men go into two teams. Aurelius decided he would lead the head on assault, his group of prime legionaries. While the second team, controlled by one of Aurelius' best fighters, Veteran Dirus, would take a stealthier approach. They would infiltrate while the troopers were too preoccupied trying to fend off Aurelius' assault team. Nelson was a small camp, but it was crowded, providing plenty of places to ambush the unsuspecting.

 Both teams moved out on Aurelius command. Dirus took the lower path, avoiding detection from the eyes of the troopers who loomed in the guard towers. Aurelius approached the chain link fences of Nelson. The first thing the man noticed was Dead Sea's 'décor' had been removed. Nelson was once littered in tributes, often made from the remains of Caesar's enemies. Now, all that remained were the few dried blood stains that coated the rusted wire of the fence. Aurelius gripped his fingers around the mesh of the wire, the steel began to bend under the pressure of the man's grasp. His focus was solely on the barracks to the right, Dead Sea's home.

  _Dead Sea..._

 Observing the camp, Aurelius took note a lot of the NCR members were sat down among the camp. Chugging down various alcoholic drinks while laughing to one another. They were clearly intoxicated. It made Aurelius' blood boil, they found comfort and merriness in the suffering of his partner. The gate was thrown open. A loud clatter rung out as the fence clattered against the empty barrels that lay carelessly behind the fence. The noises instantly attracted the attention of the camp, three of the troopers stood alert. Two men desperately scrabbled for their weapons, only to trip over their own unsteady feet.

Bullets simply bounced off of the Centurion's mighty armour, ricocheting off him and into the wooden structures close by. Wooden splinters exploded from the buildings, causing injuries to anyone stood within radius.

 A woman of the NCR screamed in pain, as one of the splinters struck her in her unprotected eye. Aurelius was quick to put a bullet in her skull, quickly ending her suffering. “No!” Cried one of the men. “You slaving fucks!” he screamed, starting to widely fire at the Legionaries that swarmed the camp like flies. One Legionary was unlucky enough to be caught in the flurry of bullets, taking one right between the eyes.

 One loss hardly effected Aurelius' assault. The Centurion didn't even take notice of his fallen. He had caught sight of his second team, now infiltrating the camp from the back end of the camp. Lead Veteran Dirus stealthily made his way around one of the ruined Nelson homes. The Veteran wrapped his fingers around the worn doorknob , then barged the door open with his armoured shoulder.

The Legionaries swarmed in through the doorway, quickly sniffing out the sleeping NCR troopers hidden inside. A sneering smile spread across Dirus' face, as his Legionaries slaughtered the men and women in their beds. The grimy yellow carpet soon became thick with clotted blood, blood that clung to the rubber of the Legionarie's boots as they tracked it through the various rooms of the derelict house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lack of updates on this, so I'm publishing two chapters to say sorry!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took Aurelius long enough...

The chair the Decanus had been strapped too had been dragged back onto four legs, mainly so they could start cutting up the Legionnaire's face now. Dead Sea no longer protested, verbally or physically. All he felt was agony, there was no part of his body that didn't hurt now. Humiliated, beaten and now broken, Dead Sea had no strength left in him to fight.

 “ _Just let it all end.”_

 A thought that repeated and repeated in the blonde's mind.

 Sounds of gunshots outside brought a immediate stop to Dead Sea's mistreatment. The steel that pressed against the man's cheek became slack in the Major's hand. All three of the troopers were starring in the direction of the door.

Dead's blue eyes stayed transfixed on the blade that remained gently pressed against his cheek. Not enough force to draw blood, but the slightest movement would change that. No one in the room moved. It was like all three of the men had frozen up in fear.

 More gun shots.

More screams.

 Then...nothing. Nothing but the sound of boots on rotten wood outside, making their way towards the door of the barracks. “Go check that out.” Polatli hissed at one of the men. With a nod, the trooper scooped up his service rifle from the near by desk and headed to the door before venturing cautiously outside.

To the remaining trooper's horror, the moment the other stepped out of the room they watched he be grabbed and pulled outside with great force. There was shouting and shrill screaming, before the sound of flesh ripping and bone snapping brought an immediate end to the cries.

 Dead Sea slowly looked up at the Major. Feeling the blade in his palm move, Joseph starred down back at the captive. “Now you're scared...” the Decanus manage to croak. Perhaps his final moments would be him tied to a chair, in agonising pain. But, if it meant he got to watch his enemies die whilst in cowering fear as the Legion tore them to shreds, it'd be worth it. Both men continued to stare each other down. Polatli's grip around the hilt of the switch-blade tightened, to a point of his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Without a second thought, he lunged the knife forward, straight into the Decanus' lower abdomen.

 Dead Sea gasped.

The knife tore through his flesh, muscle and organ tissue.

 Blood seeped everywhere, it got on the floor, the knife handle and the trooper's hand. Dead Sea retched in response, thick droplets of blood forced their way out of his mouth. His body began to quiver violently, as he coughed and gasped for air. Dead Sea could feel his consciousness escaping him now, the shock and loss of blood taking it's toll on the beaten man. His attacker simply sneered, before signalling for his remaining trooper to follow him as they grabbed their weapons to make their escape the wretched camp.

 A loud slamming indicated the men had left, allowing Dead Sea to drop his chin to his chest. It was only a matter of time before death would come for him now and strangley? He felt a sense of calm. He never saw himself going out this way, bound to a rusted chair with a profligate's blade in his gut. Dead Sea had always hoped to die while fighting for Caesar. Perhaps at the second battle of Hoover Dam … That was presuming he was critically wounded during the battle, that was.

 Absent minded wondering was brought to a halt, when the door suddenly crashed open once more. Flung open with enough force to cause it to smash against the wall, then hang loosely from it's now broken hinges. Using what little strength he had left, Dead Sea slowly rose his head. A large figure loomed in the background.

Through the painful ringing in his ears, Dead Sea could just hear what sounded like gargling, like someone was slowly suffocating to death. The figure slowly came forward into the light that showered the centre of the dismal barracks. Dropping the NCR trooper who's throat had been ripped open, one of the troopers who had contributed to the Decanus' suffering only moments ago.

 “Oh god no...”

 Dead Sea knew that voice. He slowly looked up to meet the eyes of his rescuer, his bloodied lips formed the weakest smile.  
  
“Aurie... You-...You came...” The smaller of the two managed to croak, before finally loosing the fight to stay conscious.


	7. Chapter 7

“Dead? Dead Sea?!”

 Aurelius kneeled down in front of where the Decanus was tied. He lightly tapped the side of the man's face, desperately trying to rouse him. “C'mon, Dead! Wake up!” He barked, now taking hold of the man's shoulders and shaking him vigorously.

 Still nothing.

 Aurelius gently let the other go, a pained expression on his face as he watched his partner limply fall to the side. “Come on. I'm getting you the hell out of here!” He breathed, brandishing a combat knife from his belt and cutting through the leather binds.

The Centurion's teeth were firmly grit as the blade sawed against the tough binds. Grunting in frustration, he began to saw more vigorously when his current pace seemed to have no effect on the restraints.

 “Come...on!” He spoke through his gritted teeth. Finally, the blade cut through the leather and Dead's arms were released. Aurelius went down to cut through the binds on his legs, only to find he wasn't restrained down there. Blinking in surprise, he wondered just why Dead never struggled to escape if left unstrained.

 His eyes cast down the Decanus' legs further, noticing the deep bullet wound in his partner's knee. That explained the lack of struggle, he figured. _'God, that must hurt'_ he grimaced in thought, while gently easing the unconscious Legionary off of the chair.

 “I've got you, I've got you...” He mumbled softly. Gently tucking both his arms under Dead Sea's , he hoisted the heavy set man up and onto his shoulder. With a final jostle of his shoulder, he had Dead Sea securely over his shoulder. “Let's get you to safety...” He breathed out in a sigh, giving the unconscious Decanus a gentle pat on the back.

 

* * *

 “Dirus!”

 The Veteran looked up to attention. Quickly dismissing his group of recruits, the Legionary strode over to Aurelius and stood in his usual firm, rigid state. Noticing the legs dangling over the Centurion's shoulder. “One of our fallen?” He asked, pointing a finger at the load on Aurelius side.

 “Oh? No... Dead Sea. He's in a bad way.” Aurelius spoke, trying to not let the pain in his voice be too obvious. “I'm going to be bringing back to Cottonwood Cove, we've got healers there...”

 Dirus raised a brow. Normally, horribly injured Legionaries were simply put down to end their misery. They were simply not worth keeping alive, a drain on precious resources. “Centurion, with all do respect … Would it not just be easier to just...” He stopped in midsection. Aurelius' expression had changed from concern to anger. His brown eyes were wide, transfixed on the Veteran before him.

“...Just...What?” Aurelius repeated, leaning in closer now. If he wasn't balancing a passed out Legionary on his shoulder, he'd have simply thrown the insolent veteran through the wooden barracks. “Just... Uhm- Get a healer here to treat him?” Dirus corrected himself, grinning sheepishly at his Centurion. Hopefully Aurelius would buy his plea at innocence.

 “Do you see a healer in this camp.”

  
“Sir?”

  
“Do you SEE a HEALER in this CAMP?” Aurelius repeated, louder this time, punctuating his sentence with a sharp jab in the other's chest plate.

 “I- No sir. I'll leave you to it ...sir.” He tripped over his own words, desperate to get out of trouble. Aurelius was not a man to be tested, all of the legion, and even the profligates knew that. Aurelius simply glared, watching the Veteran slink off with his tail between his legs. Aurelius nodded his head firmly in the direction the man skulked off in, keeping the irritated sneering look on his face.

 A groggy groan emitting from the baggage on his shoulder refocused Aurelius' attention.

 Right. Getting Dead Sea to saftey.

 No stops were made during the journey back to the cove. Keeping his pace brisk, Aurelius didn't want to waste a single second of what precious time he had. Dead Sea hadn't made another noise since they had left Camp Nelson. Aurelius could feel blood dripping from underneath the man's armor, only adding to his worry for Dead Sea' life.

“Not long Dead Sea... Just hold on...”

 _“Hold on...”_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday today so have a chapter.
> 
> We'll be going to Cottonwood Cove in the next chapter and the fluff/care taking can begin!!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one likes Cursor Lucullus in my Legion canon, can you tell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tonight on "I only update my fics once a month.... The plot actually starts going somewhere."
> 
> I'm not wild about this chapter, I don't know a lot about medical stuff....it shows.

Various tributes that littered Cottonwood Cove came into view, as the Centurion marched onwards. He'd moved Dead Sea from over his shoulder and into his arms now, wanting to ensure more comfort, despite Dead not having moved (or made a sound) in the last twenty minutes. Aurelius could feel blood drip underneath the Decanus' armour, staining his own impressive attire with an various shades of dark crimson.

 The swift pace broke into a run now, when the borders of Cottonwood were reached. The same scout who had burst into Aurelius' office hours earlier was the one to greet them. His tired, dull eyes raised at the sight of his Decanus, now in the arms of the Centurion's. He was brushed aside by Aurelius before he could make a comment, there was no time for questions. Time was precious, each passing second was a second taken from his partners slowly fading life.

 With a strong kick, he forced open his office door and hurried inside. Following quickly behind was Canyon Runner, who was holding one of the slaves tightly by their forearm. The slave squirmed, as the Legionaries fingers dug uncomfortably into their flesh.

 “Aurelius, sir. This man claims he was a healer of sorts before we claimed him. Perhaps he can be of use?”

 Aurelius looked the slave up and down. He was a man past his prime, probably in his 50s at a guess.

The man's hair was scraggy and unkempt, his eyes dark from a lack of sleep. Men like that would be no good as a Legion solider. Canyon was probably holding onto him to sold off as a farmhand, or a house slave. Though if he didn't sell, chances were he'd just be handed over to Otho, to be used in the arena to train the younger Legionaries.

 Thanking Canyon and dismissing him, Aurelius placed Dead Sea down onto his large, queen sized bed. Blood seeped onto the pristine sheets in seconds, staining both the bedding and the mattress beneath them. The slave dithered in the room, looking anxious while rubbing his bruised, red-raw wrists.

 “Come here.” Aurelius beckoned, curling a finger in the man's direction. Nervously, the other crept over. When at his feet, Aurelius grabbed the poor man by his collar and scragged him over to the bed. “You save this man's life and you do it fast!” He spoke with a snarl, a row of barred teeth visible to the petrified slave.

 "I- I-”

  
“What?!”

 The slave jumped back in fear, holding one of wrists against his chest as his whole body quivered. With an irritated sigh, Aurelius pinched the bridge of his bent nose. No, intimidation wasn't going to work here. He'd need a different approach.

 “Look. If you save him … And he pulls through, I will grant you your freedom.”

 Aurelius didn't wait for a response from the feeble slave. Instead, he strode across the room and ripped his first aid kit from the wall, shredding the faded wallpaper behind it. He tossed, quite violently, in the man's direction. Only just catching it, the slave clutched the pack to his chest.

 “What are you waiting for?!” Aurelius roared, slamming a clenched fist against the wall. The shelf above him rattled, as it's contents rattled and clamoured together. Then, a bottle of what was presumably an alcoholic substance, rolled right off the shelf and hit the carpet with a dull thud.

 Much to the relief of the already nervous slave.

 “My family...” The slave man finally spoke. “I wh-whant...my family's freedom too.”

 Aurelius' breathing became unsteady. Teeth gritting together at the nerve of this sudden request. Beggars could be choosers, apparently.

 Three slaves go free, Dead Sea lives. He would have to deal with an angry Canyon Runner for a few days, but it would be worth it.

 “Fine. I'll speak to the slave runner and bargain for your freedom.”

 With a final nod, the slave got to work.

 

* * *

  Aurelius could only pace, as he helplessly watched the other work. He'd sit at his desk and frantically tap his pencil against the wood. Then, he'd immediately get back up and continue his worried pacing. Any questions Aurelius tried to ask where answered with a sharp 'shush' from the the working slave.

 This sort of insolence wouldn't be tolerated normally. But under the circumstances, Aurelius would just snort and walk away. _(Only to return moments later.)_

 It was becoming clear to Dr .Weathers that this slaver had some kind of interest in the Decanus. The worried expression, the constant mithering and then flinching the moment any kind of treatment was administered to a wound.

 Not that he held any pity.

 He was doing this for his family and them only. Both of these disgusting, slaving fucks could rot for all he cared.

 “He may be off his feet for a few weeks...” The doctor idly mumbled, while wrapping the injury on the mentioned leg in a bandage. “Atleast a week's bed rest ...Then some kind of physio therapy after.” He finished, tucking the tail of the bandage into the wrapping.

 “Fissy- what?” Aurelius repeated, cocking a brow.

 The doctor held back an irritated growl. “It means building the strength to walk again.”

 “ _Stupid legion idiots.”_ Weathers cursed to under his breath, before returning to his patient.

 Next, he had to tend to the deep lacerations in the blonde's chest. Someone had had a field day carving this branding into the man's chest. A man Weather's wouldn't mind meeting, in all honesty. The cuts would scar, most defiantly. Leaving this man with cruel scarring, but no where near as cruel the legion itself.

 He did his best to clean up the dried blood that coated the Decanus' chest. The water in the bucket now turning a murky brown through the amount of times the bloody rag was dunked into it. Aurelius continued to offer his assistance. Finally, after being turned away four times, Weather's accepted the Centurion's offer and sent him to go get some clean water.

* * *

  Trudging his way down to the docs, Aurelius couldn't take his mind off of Dead Sea's condition. Every time another injury was revealed, he felt a sense of shame in knowing he wasn't there to prevent it. The wood that made Cottonwood's docks creaked as Aurelius walked along it, towards the edge to get the fresher water.

 The water was scooped into empty bucket, while Aurelius made many, many attempts to ignore Cursor Lucullus while doing so. He wasted no time getting back to the office and straight back to Doctor Weathers. To Aurelius surprise, he saw that the doctor appeared to be done treating Dead.

 “Ah. You're back.” The doctor stated, who went and took the water from Aurelius and washed his bloodied hands in it. “He's going to be alright. I wanted you out of the room while I took care of the wound to the stomach.”

 Aurelius could only stare, mouth agape in response.

 “It was deep, but a stimpack quickly clotted the bleeding and made stitching easy.”

 The Legionary only continued to stare.

“...And uhm... Just keep the bandages clean. Change them daily, make sure he keeps rested...etc.”

 “R-Right...” Aurelius finally managed to choke. “Thankyou...”

 Weather's merely nodded in response. He'd done his duty to save his family, he took no pride in saving the life of a monster.

 “Come... We shall free your family now, as you asked...”

 Aurelius lead Weathers out of the office. He took a final look at the now resting Dead Sea, before sighing and shutting the door, leaving Dead Sea alone in darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aurelius and Dead Sea finally spend some time together.

_Dead Sea found himself in darkness. But he knew he was not alone._

“ _Bind him.” Sneered a deep voice._

  _His hands were pulled tightly behind his back. Dead cried out and struggled, thrashing violently against the restraints. He couldn't get free._

  _He couldn't get free._

 “ _Pull up his shirt.”  
_

“ _Pl-Please no!” He pleaded, as an unknown man slowly approached, holding a cleaver._

  _Dead twisted his wrists, the rope rubbing his bloody skin raw. No binds would give._

  _He was going to die._

 “ _Please...Please...No! Please, god no!”_

  _The thrashing became more frantic, as the bound man desperately tried to break free._

 " _No! No please no-!!”_

 

Dead Sea suddenly jolted awake. Sitting upright, he found himself sweating and shivering uncontrollably. His hands roamed the soft surface beneath him. Realizing he was on a bed, his worried state began to gradually calm.

 He was out of Nelson...But where was he?

 As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the familiar walls of Aurelius' office came into view. The taxidermy molerat he had always hated, the various lockers that Aurelius couldn't find use for … The desk where he'd first met his Centurion. It was all there, he was safe, he was home.

 He allowed himself to fall back into the soft pillows. Dead found himself still shivering, though. The room was so cold. Looking down the right side of the bed, he saw the thick blanket in a heap on the worn carpet below. With a shaking hand, Dead Sea reached for it.

 The pain was crippling, harsh and sharp. Enough to force a agonized cry from the Decanus as he quickly forced himself onto his side. His fingertips gently brushed over the padding that covered the wound in his gut, where the throbbing pain was coming from. His chest appeared to be in a similar state, wrapped up in layers of fabric. Whatever injury lay underneath hidden from him.

 “Aurelius ...?” He weakly called out. His voice was hoarse and gravelly.

 No response from any area of the office.

 Dead Sea slowly rose upwards from his fetal position. Now sitting fully upright at the edge of the bed, Dead Sea felt more painful surges generate from his body. His knee throbbed, a clear indicator it shouldn’t be bent in such a way. Pain also came from areas he didn't even want to think about. He dreaded to think about the damage caused by ten cigarettes being pressed against his genitals.

 He lay himself back down on the cold mattress, the pain in most areas slowly fading as he did so. His eyelids grew heavy now, exhaustion sweeping over his weak body and Dead Sea allowed himself to rest.

* * *

 In his semi conscious state, Dead Sea heard the door click open. Light filtered through the opening and Aurelius quietly crept into the office. The Centurion’s first action was going straight over to Dead Sea’s bedside. Seeing the smaller man laying on the mattress with no blanket, he tutted and shook his head.

 “What are you doing with no blanket on you?” He asked, though he didn’t expect the other to answer back. “Lets get you tucked in...” he spoke softly. Whisking up the heavy quilt with a single

arm, he threw it over the bed, shrouding Dead’s sleeping body in warmth. He started tucking the ends of the quilt into the mattress as he wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. 

 It was the least he could do for now.

 Aurelius set himself down on the edge of bed. Removing his helmet and allowing it to roll to the floor, he sighed. What a day this had been...

“Aurie...”  
  
Aurelius jumped. He turned and saw Dead Sea peering out from under the hem of the blanket.

“Hey you...” Aurelius replied with a smile, easing himself off of the bed and over to his partner's bedside. His fingers gently brushed Dead's hair from his eyes. There was a lot of blood matted into the golden blonde, Aurelius would have to try and help Dead wash it out at some point. He'd make sure to see if Dead Sea had enough strength to manage tomorrow, then he'd wash the man's hair for him.

 “You should be sleeping.” Aurelius gently told him, continuing to rub his hands through the other's soft blond locks. Dead sea's hand slowly emerged from under the covers. He took hold of Aurelius wrist, though his grip was feeble. Slowly pulling his hand away from his hair, Dead Sea gently set the other's hand down.

 He wasn't sure how to admit to his partner that an NCR trooper had been doing the exact same thing to him. Tormenting him, petting him like he was a damned dog. Now, it seemed any contact with his hair made him feel uncomfortable.

 Aurelius forced a smile in response.

 “Ah, you want to sleep... I get you. Can't sleep with me fondling your hair, huh?” He tried to laugh as he spoke, but the pained look in his eyes couldn't be hidden. It was awful, seeing a once proud Decanus in such a state. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the other's forehead.

 “Sleep well, Dead Sea. I'll come see you tomorrow, okay...?”

“Where are you...go-...going...” Dead Sea managed to croak, trying to sit himself upwards now. His attempts were met with Aurelius slowly easing him back down into the sheets.

 “Shh...I'll sleep in the HQ tonight. You need the bed, I don't.” He had to resist not beginning to stroke his partner's hair again. Dead Sea didn't look particularly happy with the arrangement. He wanted Aurelius here, with him.

 “Aurie-”

“Sleep. Come on now. The doctor said you need your rest.” Aurelius' tone was firmer now. Firm, but loving. He just wanted what was best for this stubborn little Legionnaire. He'd always been bull headed, young Dead Sea. He'd always put Caesar's best intentions before anything ...Including his own health at times.

 Aurelius rose from the bed. “I'm going to come up and check on you in an hour. I want you asleep, okay?” He stated, retrieving his helmet from the floor and tucking it under his arm. “Alright...” He gave Dead Sea another kiss on the forehead, the other wanted to return the kiss, but didn't have the strength to rise up to the other's impressive height.

 After tucking Dead Sea in a second time, Aurelius left. He made sure to lock the door to the office once he was outside. He made sure to have a few recruits guard the office perimeter, for his own peace of mind mainly.

 True to his word, Aurelius checked in on Dead Sea later that night. Finding the Decanus sound asleep, his face buried in the pillows, Aurelius smiled and flicked off the lantern.

 He was sure to return first thing in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS ROTTING MY TEETH IT'S TOO PURE FOR MY USUAL WRITING STUFF.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dead Sea makes progress. Aurelius can't keep his hands off Dead's hair.

There wasn't much progress over the next few days. Dead Sea seemed too exhausted to speak most of the time. Aurelius found Dead Sea slept best when he wasn't actually present most of the day. He put that down to the Decanus missing him and trying to sleep to pass the time. It seemed cruel, to deliberately avoid your own boyfriend. But it was for Dead Sea's own well being.

Five days rolled by before Dead Sea showed any signs of improvement. After entering the office one morning, Aurelius found the once bedridden man now sitting bolt upright. It was a relief, despite Aurelius' initial shock at the sight. It wasn't long before Dead Sea's appetite came back too. It was distressing, to see a man who loved his food now turning his nose up at anything offered to him.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Aurelius called from his desk, glancing over in Dead Sea's direction. The Decanus looked up from the book he was engrossed in. “I've got some brahmin steak and some vegetables around here...somewhere.” Aurelius rolled on, leaving his desk and heading to the small kitchen area of his office. The Dead's expression at the offer of food said it all, Aurelius didn't need a response to start cooking.

Fifteen minutes later, dinner was served. And Dead Sea was quick to dig in. It was like he'd not never been fed, the way he wolfed the food down. He never seemed to even take a breath, as mouthful after mouthful was shoved down his gullet.

“Breathe, Dead Sea.” Aurelius commented from the bedside, raising a brow at the other's eating habits. Dead Sea simply looked up from his plate, cheeks bulging with the amount of food in his mouth. The taller man simply shook his head with a smile.

At least he had his appetite back.

 

* * *

 

“It's nothing I've not seen already. Don't be so embarrassed.”

“Yes. I know. It's just-...”  
  
“Just what?” Aurelius asked in response. He started unscrewing the lid off a jar of aloe vera gel. Dead Sea didn't protest to having his burns treated when he was incapacitated those few days ago. Now he actually had the strength to protest, he _would_ protest.

“Just nothing. Now come on, we'll get this stuff on then I'll see if I've any snack cakes in the cupboards for you.”

With a wary sigh, Dead Sea nodded and kicked off the covers. He averted his eyes once he'd pulled his undershorts down enough for the burns to become visible. God, it looked worse than he had thought when he finally glanced down. Neither of the men spoke as the burns received a lathering of ointment. Aurelius felt the other jerk in pain at the touch, he knew words alone couldn't help Dead Sea's suffering. Once it was done, Dead Sea made himself decent again and got back under the covers, saying nothing.

A brief moment passed, neither of the two saying a word. Finally, Aurelius broke the silence. 

“I'll get those snack cakes now...”

 

* * *

 

“Come on. You can do this.”

Aurelius stood at the foot of his desk. He beckoned the Decanus over, who was at the foot of the bed. Dead Sea was putting all of his bodyweight onto his uninjured leg, while the healing one was completely void of pressure on it. “Just walk to me, Dead Sea.” Aurelius instructed. “You'll be okay. I've got you if you think you're going to fall.”

  
Despite Aurelius' best efforts, Dead Sea felt no urge to take the first step forward. Failure was something the Decanus hated, even if the task was something as simple as taking a few baby steps. Sighing, Aurelius pushed off from the desk and walked back to his boyfriend. 

“Take one step. Come on, Dead Sea.”

Dead Sea looked up at him, his blue eyes fearful.

“I'll- I'll fall-”

“No. You won't! You can do this... You wiped out profligates that were four times your number. You can manage a few steps.”

The faintest whimper escaped Dead Sea. Then, he put forward his left foot.

“Now the other.”

Dead Sea obeyed, taking a step now. He instantly wobbled as pressure was applied to his injured leg. Quickly finding his footing, Dead rebalanced himself, then took another step. Aurelius began backing up to the desk, while constantly offering moral support as his partner began walking again.

“You've got it! Come on, walk to me!” Aurelius exclaimed, banging his open palm against his desk. Dead Sea almost managed to get over to the desk, but the injured leg suddenly buckled from under him.

“Oh god-!!”

In a flash, a pair of arms caught him before he could fall. Dead Sea stared at the floor, then up to Aurelius. He nervously laughed, before relaxing as the other pulled him close against himself.

“I think that's enough fissy...Whatever it's called for one day.” Aurelius chuckled. He helped the other back onto the bed, before sitting on the other side himself. He dimmed the fire in the lantern, then started to undress himself to his normal sleeping attire. Once undressed, Aurelius lay down beneath the covers and pulled the smaller man against himself, Dead Sea didn't protest to the sudden action, though.

“I'm grateful I can actually walk... I've known others who are not so lucky...” Dead Sea mumbled into the pillows he had buried his face against.

“Luck has always favoured you, Dead Sea.”

Not that the Decanus could find it within himself to agree, given what happened to him only a week ago. “I mean with your history!” Aurelius quickly corrected himself, before the other could respond. After all, it wasn't everyday infants who had been abandoned by their parents found such salvation like the legion.

Dead Sea simply nodded quietly, keeping his focus on the wall before him. His mind had been solely focused on getting better the last few days. Camp Nelson needed his leadership. While Veteran Dirus’s leadership skills were not to be scoffed at, Dead Sea pined for the camp to be ruled under his fist once more.

“You’re making a swift recovery.” Aurelius rolled on. “I’d say you’ll be walking just fine within a few more days. Your stomach has healed nicely, too.” Granted, it had left a large, misshapen scar across Dead’s abdomen. Hopefully, it would fade with time as most wounds did.

Most.

Even for a man as sturdy as Dead Sea, this whole ordeal had shaken him. Most nights Aurelius could hear Dead whimper in his sleep. The vivid visions of that night still plaguing his mind as he tried to rest. Aurelius couldn’t do much else other than gently rub the other’s back in an attempt to soothe him.

He could just wake him up. Though Aurelius felt like Dead Sea’s pride had taken enough damage. The last thing Dead Sea needed was to be told he had been yowling in his sleep like a frightened child.

  
“It still hurts.” Dead Sea mumbled. “It hurts worst at night.”

The taller man let out a soft sigh, while burying his nose into the other’s soft hair. “If you need me to get you anything ...You just have to ask...” Aurelius yawned. He was exhausted himself. Most of his own nights had been sleepless, worrying about Dead Sea in the room above the HQ.

  
“What if you’re asleep?” Dead Sea asked in response. The blond seemed wide awake now.

  
“Then you just wake me, Dead...” Aurelius replied, yawning loudly after he finished speaking.

  
“What if you’re snoring really loud? Like you always do?”

  
Aurelius simply shushed him in response.

  
“Sleep, Dead Sea. Sleep.”

  
Dead Sea's lips formed a smile, then took to burying his face furthering into the pillows. For the first time in days, Dead slept without any night terrors. Instead sleeping soundly in the arms of his love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter :^)
> 
> Something a lil darker comes up the next chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aurelius finally talks to the scout who saved Dead Sea's life and there's an unexpected guest at the Cove.

What was once intended to be a cruel branding across the Decanus’ chest, was now healing well. Nothing more than faint, pink scratches across his bare torso. Regaining the ability to walk had been the most tedious part of Dead Sea's recovery. Various times had there been trips and falls, resulting in the Decanus burning over with embarrassment. Aurelius remained supportive, refusing to let the other give up after all he had been through.

It was mid-day. Dead Sea got himself lost within one of Aurelius' pre-war books he kept on the shelves of his office. The Centurion himself hardly touched literature, already finding he was swamped in enough paper work at it was.

  
Who knew running this camp came with such a chore?

  
The words on the paper were beginning to merge together, making them unintelligible to the already frustrated Aurelius. Sighing loudly in clear irritation, he rose from his desk.

  
“I'm going outside for some fresh air.” Aurelius huffed in Dead Sea's direction. Lifting his head, Dead Sea just nodded, then returned to the pages of his book. He was heavily engrossed, the plot of the novel contained a dragon. Anything reptilian and the Decanus was hooked.

  
Aurelius tutted, taking his leave outside.

  
Reflective shimmers from the shores of the water blinded the many passing recruits. The cove could be a beautiful place at sundown, very few of the Legion appreciated this beauty though. Most simply kept their eyes down, starring into the dry, cracked earth beneath them. The men stood to attention as their commanding Centurion passed. Some men occasionally gave a typical Latin greeting, Aurelius only gave a nod back in acknowledgement.

  
All his legionaries were accounted for. He didn't notice the scout from Nelson, though. A quick gander around revealed a lone figure in the off distance. Legionaries often grouped together, it was rare to find one who enjoyed their own company. After the reaching the top of the hill, (which felt like climbing a mountain when wearing such heavy armour) Aurelius approached the young scout.

  
The other didn't even acknowledge him at first, continuing to stare off towards the lake. Only when Aurelius cleared his throat loudly, did the other turn his head. Despite Aurelius giving a warm smile to the other, the scout didn't return the gesture.

  
“It's 'Attila' right?” Aurelius asked, heaving himself down next to the scout.

“...Yes.” The younger man finally replied.

  
He pulled down the hood that covered his features. Aurelius was surprised to see the dark skinned man had vitiligo. He hadn't noticed the patches of lighter skin when the scout burst into his office that day. The scout seemed to keep his skin heavily covered, even wearing a longer sleeved t shirt under the typical crimson shirt.

  
“I sunburn easily.” He explained, taking notice of the other's starring. “Keep your skin covered, don't get burned.” Attila rolled on.

  
“Yeah. Makes sense.”

“...Can I help you, Centurion?” Atilla then asked, raising a brow. Surely this man had some underlying motive to be bothering him this much. He saw himself beneath notice, only being a mere scout.

  
“I just wanted to talk, recruit. ...Dead Sea has a raid camp within close range to Nelson, why didn't you go there for help?” The Centurion asked, following the scout's gaze towards the river. Attila jumped slightly at the sudden question. Feeling nervous at the Centurion's prying, he tripped over his own sentences in an attempt to explain himself.

“I- I just thought- You would- You'd- ...I thought Dead Sea would want you to help. No one else would've fought as hard as you did to save him...”

Aurelius nodded, letting a moment of silence pass between the two of them. As the two stared at the waterbed in complete silence, Aurelius finally spoke again.

  
“I'm glad you came to me.” The Centurion admitted softly. “I dread to think what would have happened, if someone had a similar attitude to this situation as my Veteran did. Thank you, Attila.”

  
Attila smiled, admittedly rather nervously. “You’re uh- Welcome, Sir.” The scout cleared his throat after speaking. His own brown eyes once again avoiding contact with the other’s. _“Ever the conversationalist”_ Attila thought to himself, as the two sat again in an awkward silence.

  
“You're not a big talker, are you?” Aurelius spoke, keeping his smile. He understood, though. His own scout often would spend hours by himself while patrolling the perimeter of the cove. So much solitude could have such an effect on a man. Attila could only make a quick half laugh half snort noise. “I should get going anyway. I'm sure Severus has something to bother me with.” The sentence was punctuated with a roll of the Centurion's eyes.

  
As Aurelius rose, Attila followed his motion. The scout figured he could get one last patrol in before retiring for the night. When the scout went to head down the steep hill first, he spotted a group of Legionaries heading towards the Cove's opening.

  
“Centurion?”

  
Aurelius looked over, his brows furrowing as he took notice at the sudden arrival. “That's really...Odd. Veteran Dirus is with them! Oh Mars I hope there isn't a problem in Nelson!” He cried, quickly pushing past the startled Attila and racing towards the gathering swarm of crimson. Wearing such heavy armour didn't make Aurelius at all stealth like, as he came stumbling down the hill. The group of recruits' heads slowly moved up and down, as they followed the movements of the man as he nearly toppled over himself various times.

  
Veteran Dirus stepped forward, Sporting his smug smirk.

  
“Ah, Aurelius! I wasn't expecting you up and about so late! I have some news for you.”

 

* * *

  
Licking his index finger, Dead Sea thumbed the just read page to the left. He hadn't noticed how long his boyfriend had been gone, he'd become intensely engrossed in this new novel he had just started. “Why can't the dragon just be left alone...” He said with a shake of his head. Finishing the end paragraph, Dead flicked onto the next page.

  
“Please kill the knight, please kill the knight, ple-”

“Dead Sea!” Aurelius abruptly burst into the office. Seemingly out of breathe.

  
He staggered over to Dead Sea's bedside, who was starring wide-eyed at the taller man.

  
“What is it...?” The blond asked, tilting his head.

“It's a surprise. Come!” Aurelius beamed, taking hold of Dead Sea's wrist, trying to urge him from the bed.

  
“I don't like surprises.” Dead Sea stated, being forced to set his book down and praise his wrist free. The last 'surprise' the Decanus had, involved him being shot in the back of the knee.

  
The events that preceded it, were not pleasant either.

  
“You'll like this one, Dead!”

“Reily...”

  
Aurelius sat himself on the bed. Maintaining eye contact, he asked again. “Please, Dead. I promise you're going to love this!” He beamed, patting the other's lap enthusiastically.

  
Huffing in frustration , Dead Sea knew Aurelius wasn't taking no for an answer. So, he gave a defeated nod, agreeing to see just what this 'surprise' was.

  
  
“Fine, I'll go see your stupid surprise...”

  
Dead Sea grunted and kicked back the bedsheets. He rolled himself out of bed and stretched his arms with a yawn, stopping when he heard the faintest 'click' in his joints.

  
“Clothes.” He then mumbled, getting to his feet finally. Dead Sea's own clothes had been removed when he was treated by the slave doctor. His shirt had been shredded and saturated in blood, he figured his tunic was in a similar way. “I've no clothes.” He repeated, signalling at his semi-bare form.

  
A baggy shirt was thrown in his direction, hitting his directly in the face. A tunic followed suit, again, hitting the Decanus' face.

  
“Can you not?!” The Decanus barked, whipping the clothing from his face. “These are far too big!” he cried, thrusting the cloths forward as they draped over his forearms. Dead Sea guessed these were Aurelius' clothes, judging by the sheer size alone. Dead Sea himself was 'chunky' in stature, but being nearly 7ft in height, even Aurelius' clothing could drape him.

  
“They'll be fine! It's just while we head outside! Now hurry up!” He instructed. “Or do I need to dress you myself?”

 

* * *

Shoving a pair of boots on and having to borrow two belts from Aurelius, Dead Sea finally headed out with the Centurion. The lack of recruits wandering the camp soon caught Dead Sea's attention. While tempted to bring it up, the Decanus came to conclusion they had something to do with this little thing Aurelius was putting together for him.

Surprises given by Aurelius often came in the form of food, money or jewellery. So it was beginning to grate on Dead Sea when he couldn't conclude just what this surprise was going to be.  


“Aurelius, just tell me what this is!”  
“Can't! Come on, you need to see!”

Dead Sea suddenly stopped walking, nearly tripping the taller man, who was aiding him as they walked. His boots sticking firmly to the sandy ground beneath him. He folded his muscular arms and pouted, sticking his bottom lip like a sulking child.

 “I'm not taking another step! At least until you tell me what you're planning!”

 He expected Aurelius to cave, like he always did. To give in to the Decanus' mini tantrum and explain what this little surprise was. But- Aurelius just blinked, while starring down at the stroppy smaller man. Without any given warning, he scooped the Decanus up with ease and threw him over his shoulder.

“Put me down this instant!” Dead Sea screeched, slamming his balled fists into the Centurions back. “Aurelius! Aurelius are you listening?! Put me down!”

Minutes of demanding passed, before Dead Sea eventually gave up. He pouted, resting his cheek in his hand as he was carried towards what seemed to be the very edge of Cottonwood Cove. Further along the cove, they passed a couple legionaries assembling a cross. Dead felt the slightest pang of panic in his chest.

...That wasn't for him, right?

“Uhm- Riley? ...They're not crucifying me, are they?” He asked, trying not to let the welling anxiety be known to the other. Aurelius couldn't stop himself from snorting with laughter. 

“What? No! But it is being made for a reason, we're here now!” He slid Dead off of his back, then taking an arm around his shoulder to support the other's weight once more. “Come on, Veteran Dirus is waiting for us.”

The area Aurelius walked Dead Sea was considered of no-use to the Legion. It was nothing but rows of boarded up beach houses, only occasionally did the patrolling explorers pass through the area. Dirus stood to attention as Aurelius arrived with Dead Sea in tow.

“Glad you finally made it. Decanus! How good to see you...Alive” He said, before saluting the Decanus. Dead Sea just raised his eyes at the last comment, but choose not to comment. Aurelius gave his shoulder a small squeeze, reassuring him he'd made the right decision.

“I'm glad Aurelius brought you, actually.” Dirus continued. “I was worried you wouldn't be up to it, given the condition you've been in, sir.”

“I got better.”

“Ofcourse... Ofcourse. Alright men, bring that bastard over!” Dirus barked towards his recruits, who were gathered around in a circle. Like they guarding something. The 'lead' recruit nodded and the recruits split from the circle. It was a person they dragged over, who was heavily beaten and had their hands binded tightly behind their back.

They threw the man down at Dead Sea's feet. When Dead Sea saw who it was, he gasped loudly and his blue eyes widened.

_Polatli._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This can only end well :3c
> 
> Please find me at 'Decani' on tumblr to come scream with me


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the tyrant rises, the hunter evades. (End chapter.)

Dead Sea could only stare at the sight before him.

It was like a very bad dream.

"When you guys took off I caught this one trying to escape! Nothing escapes Dirus' clutches though!” The Veteran cackled, revelling in his own achievements. Surrounding recruits simply scowled, some even rolling their eyes ...discreetly.  

Dead Sea shook his head, returning his gaze to Dirus. “Surely just letting him flee would've been easier on all of you...” The Decanus was tired. He didn't wish to deal with this, not now. He turned to go back to the office, but was quickly caught by Aurelius' arm.

“This bastard hurt you. Now it's time for retribution, in anyway you please.” The Centurion explained, gently coaxing Dead back to the centre of the circle. “That's what the cross being built was for. You could have this rat crucified... Watch him suffocate... You know.”

Dead Sea blinked and looked down to the beaten wreck of a trooper beneath him. If he wasn't gagged, Polatli would certainly have had something to say to all three of them. Dead's hand was taken and prised open, a machete pressed into it.

"It's your call.” Aurelius then spoke out, closing the Decanus' fingers around the handle. “We could have him transported to the fort, you know... Put in Otho's arena. I mean, sure, it might seem merciful-”

“Let him go.”

Aurelius paused. Did he hear that correctly? 

"Let him go.” The smaller man repeated.

Both Aurelius and Dirus wore the same shocked expression on their faces. The Veteran Legionary edged closer to Aurelius and hissed in his ear. “How hard was he hit in the head that day?” to which Aurelius could only shrug, his armour chinking as he rose and dropped his large shoulders.

Dead Sea was pacing around his gifted captive, seemingly unaware of his mental state being questioned by the other two.

"I wasn't hit hard enough to effect my hearing you know.” Dead Sea growled, loud enough for both man to hear, then look away sheepishly. “Leave us.” Dead Sea instructed.

“Decanus-”

Dead Sea snapped his head around to face Dirus, brandishing a finger back towards the cove. “Leave us!” the blonde barked again. “Do I need to repeat every order four times now?!”

Sneering, Dirus tossed his head and ordered his recruits follow after him.

Once the group were out of both sight and mind, Aurelius approached the young Decanus. He had his back to the Centurion, continuing to stare at the downed man at his feet.

“Dead Sea?” Aurelius asked softly, placing a hand on the other's shoulder.  Dead Sea didn't even flinch at his touch. He seemed so burrowed into himself, so lost within thought. “Dead Sea-”

“I just need to be alone a moment. Me and the profligate, please.” The Decanus then spoke, finally turning his head over his shoulder. He couldn't wrap his head around the sudden controversy. Dead had his reasons for this course of action, it may not be a 'legion' approach to the situation, but if it was 'his call', then this was what he wanted done.

The Centurion looked down at him for a moment, his neutral expression wavering slightly. He was worried. Aurelius didn't think Dead Sea was thinking straight, letting a man who tortured him go free. But, the centurion stepped away from the two men, allowing them both their privacy and walking away with a swish of his cape.

* * *

When the heavy clunking of armour faded away, Dead Sea was satisfied he was finally alone. Crouching down, he lay the blade flat down against the other man's face. If he couldn't see him dead, he could at least watch him squirm.

“Now doesn't this scene feel familiar?” Dead Sea asked, his expression completely stoic of any emotion. The handle of his blade was edged to a ninety degree angle slowly, the sharpest edge now pressing into flesh. He could see the anxiety in the trooper's eyes, wide in fearful anticipation.

Slowly and carefully, the Decanus slid the blade against the leather that gagged his enemy. Upon the  material being slashed apart, Joseph gasped and spluttered. Dead Sea simply starred at the other's coughing fit, not a flicker of reaction crossed his face throughout the other's ordeal.

Finally emitting a gravelly groan, the NCR Major finally spoke. “What's your damned game?” He coughed.

"No game, Polatli.” Dead Sea explained, the machete he held being caressed in his open palms now. “It's sort of like this … My enemies... I mean real enemies, not those pathetic louts you like throwing at my forces. People like you.” Dead rolled his wrist as he went on. “I wish to deal with true enemies of the Legion in the correct fashion-”

"And what fashion would be? Getting torn to shreds in some disgusting, crappy slave ring?” Polatli spat back.

Dead Sea frowned at the interruption. Though tempted to give a 'warning' using the machete in his possession, he simply took a sharp inhale in before exhaling loudly through his nose. They were getting off the subject.

"No. Now you will listen to me and you shall listen well, Joseph.”

Happy he had the man’s attention, Dead Sea began.

“I want you to die in your shoddy little camp. I want to see you laying there, your throat slashed open by my blade, dead comrades littering the ground around you.”  Dead Sea edged closer to the other, who's breathing had increased rapidly as the Legionnaire's threats slowly intensified.

“You are cowardly. Nothing more than a gutless dog! You could only inflict harm upon me when I was in no position to retaliate... I am not like you, I require little more than a blade to perform a mass execution.” He jabbed Polatli in the chest with the machete he held. “I’m in no condition to fight you fairly, I feel it is safe to say you’re in a similar way right now. ...When the time is right, I will bring death to your camp.”

There was no response from Polatli. He could only stare, his eyes locking with the cold, icy blue ones before him. He was only to be spared so this bastard could attempt to slaughter him at a later date. Like a hyena slowly wearing it’s exhausted prey down, then going in for the kill.

Dead Sea cut through all the restraints and stepped back. Allowing the other man to get up. “Now go.” He growled. “Tell all who you happen by what I told you, about the coming storm.”

Joseph was far taller than the Decanus. It would only take one swift punch in the nose to catch the legionary off guard. Killing him would be so easy from there. It would only take wrapping his fingers around the bastard's throat and choking the life out of him.

But Dead Sea wants a war. A war he, or the Legion, has no chance of winning.

When the NCR had invaded Nelson, the recruits hardly put up a fight. On inspection of the legion's fallen, some recruits were just flesh and bone. Various troopers felt they had done those men a service that day, ending their suffering and constant misery. The entire camp was sparse of food and water, it made Polatli question just how Dead Sea had kept the camp going for as long as he did.

If they could stump the Legion once, the NCR could do it again and this time, they wouldn't make the mistake of letting a rat bastard live for a few moments of 'revenge' . 

Or better yet, capturing him alive again and forcing him to live in a prison camp. Alone, stripped off all his identity and reduced to nothing all... That would be a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Go.” Dead Sea spoke stiffly. “Return to your rat's nest...”

Dead Sea never looked back as he himself walked away. The sound of rocks being disturbed behind him gave indication his instruction was heeded.

The NCR nay have won today’s battle ... But the Legion would win the war.

But for now... There were more important things on the Decanus' mind.

* * *

Darkness shrouded the over the cove by now. Only Aurelius and Severus remained awake, both sat upon the ledge of Aurelius' office, their legs dangling off of the edge.

“I'm worried about him, Sev. He took a beating and yet he wants the man who executed it to go free.” Aurelius explained with a sigh, running his hand through his short cropped hair.

Severus listened intently, taking in the pained expression Aurelius held, returning a sympathetic shoulder pat. “Perhaps young Dead Sea is confused.” He offered in explanation, removing his own feather donned helmet. “Or he wants a real fight with the degenerate fool?”

“Meaning...? Oh- Wait here he comes.” Aurelius quickly ushered Severus up, getting to his own feet swiftly to meet him. On Dead Sea's approach, Aurelius held his hands behind his back and nodded in greeting. Severus nodded also, before bidding the two men goodnight and heading to his own tent.

Both men found themselves alone. All recruits were asleep … And it was a beautiful moon tonight.

Dead Sea practically fell into Aurelius open arms, emitting a soft and weary sigh.

“There there.” The taller man soothed, running his fingers gently through Dead's messy hair.

“I'm tired, Reily.” Dead mumbled into his partner's chest, as their arms wrapped around him securely.

“I know.. I know. I’m sorry I put you through that. I honestly thought-“

“Hey.” Dead Sea pressed his finger against the man’s lips, before he could finish. “I’m not mad. You meant well, I understand that. ...I want to execute him in a fair battle. Never will I resort to the same low tactics they used against me.” 

‘Severus was right after all’ Aurelius thought to himself. “Well. What’s done is done, Dead Sea. ...It’s a nice night. We should enjoy it from the resort...” He said.

“Yeah. We should...”Dead replied with a grin. 

Aurelius then took the smaller man’s chin and gently lifted him into a kiss. Dead Sea’s lips gently met Aurelius’, a tender kiss slowly becoming more bold. His arms wrapped around the Centurion’s shoulders, stretching up onto his toes just to reach. 

Pulling away with a soft moan, Aurelius whisked the small Decanus up into his arms with ease and headed to the earlier mentioned resort. 

No Legionaries, no Lakelurks ... Nothing but the two of them and the stars above. 

The two legionaries lay together on two old sun loungers, pushed together to form a much larger one. The material had fared well over the past few decades, making it the perfect spot for a small get away. Only the yammer of distant coyotes and the gentle tide of the river were sounding, as the two men conversed lazily into the night.

“It is truly is beautiful.” Dead Sea stated, pointing up at the bright full moon. 

“Oh I agree! ...It’s the second most beautiful thing here.” The other grinned coyly. 

Dead Sea snorted loudly. “Oh shut up you sappy thing, you.”  “And I don’t exactly look a perfect ten right now either.” The blond then chuckled. “My knee looks like it had an encounter with a axe grinder...”

“You’ll always look nice to me, Dead Sea. Always.” 

Aurelius reached a hand over and clasped the Decanus’ much smaller hand tightly. Dead Sea didn’t respond at first, but it didn’t take very long for him to squeeze back. 

“Thankyou.” Dead Sea then said, propping himself to one side to face Aurelius. “For everything you’ve done the last few weeks...”

“You don’t ever have to thank me.” Aurelius sighed, continuing to rub the smaller hand interlocked within his own. “I’ll always look out for you. No matter what.” 

“I mean- ... Even little things you’ve done. You didn’t have to go out your way, yet you did.”

“Little things mean a lot, Dead Sea. ...I love you.”

The rest of the night was spent in silence, as an already exhausted Dead Sea slowly fell asleep with his face burrowed into Aurelius’ chest. His cape serving as a make shift blanket for the Decanus. 

“Sleep well, Dead Sea. Sleep well...”

As the night rolled on, soon Aurelius joined Dead Sea in slumber. Soon they would have to decide on Dead’s return date to Nelson, but for now? Both men could enjoy their time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done and done! A sequal is in the works and I want to thank everyone who stuck with this mess of a test fanfic!


End file.
